


Remind Me What it Was Like at the Top of the World

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self Harm, Kinda, M/M, Multi, this is a mess of a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hercules had two boxes in his head where he could file things. A good and a bad. The problem was, the bad seemed to be neverending.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just a self-indulgent angst-filled nightmare that I wrote at 12 AM because I can't sleep but basically it's a mess and unbetad and most likely horrid so- apologies

     He’d made that promise years ago. At this point he didn’t talk to the person any more, but that didn’t really matter to him. The promise was the only thing keeping him going, even if it wasn’t a good thing, even if this wasn’t something that he should be relying on. He’d made the promise to stop, and he’d broken so many promises, so many vows before, that he simply couldn’t break this one. If he did, he was afraid it might break him.

     Years ago, he had fallen into the habit, the terrifying, addictive habit of hurting himself in an attempt to keep himself from hurting those around him. In an attempt to keep himself from hurting more in his own brain. He figured anything would hurt less than what he somehow couldn’t stop saying to himself, and if it would distract him from the things he’d say then why not do it? It only seemed logical. His feet were the only places that ever saw the glint of his blade and blood, places were nobody would be able to see, where nobody would suspect. If he was on a beach he could brush it off as having gone into the woods in sandals the previous day, and every time he took a step he could be reminded of what he’d done, and the effect would be stronger.

     His mind supplied him with these thoughts and he took them gratefully, storing them in a place where he visited by the day, hour, minute. He stored these thoughts and in a separate box he stored the memories of happiness, and he could plaster on a fake smile and be kind to his friends and laugh and talk and never let on that he was hurting, in much more ways than one. And then he’d met her.

     She was in the same situation as Hercules- clearly his own strength did not match his name- but she seemed to find it easier to cope when he was around, and when he was coping. And she’d made him promise to stop, and he’d broken so many promises before, so he finally did.

     She disappeared from his life as quickly as she’d arrived, but Hercules slowly started to get better. He opened up his box of happiness and slowly started to sift through it, relearning what it was like. He fell back into the other occasionally, the box which stored his thoughts produced by the negative side, but he usually managed to crawl back out. This crawling required him to fight tooth and nail at times, as if he was scraping up the sides of a never-ending tunnel, but he managed to do it. And each time he fell, he'd do it again.

*

     When he moved to college, he met the three of them, in perfect unison; all three were holding hands in a small café, laughing, talking, looking beautiful under the gloom of the rain. He could never understand the feeling that came over him when he saw couples like this, or even groups of friends. It was as if it was nostalgia, but one can’t really be nostalgic over something one’s never felt. Regardless, Hercules marveled in their combined beauty, like three puzzle pieces destined to fit together. \

    Alexander, energetic, nonstop, electric.

Lafayette, confident, regal, shining.

     John, suave, powerful, combative.

Perfect matches.

     They became friends quickly, after a mishap at this same café had led to Alexander’s drink being given to Hercules, a conversation blooming out of mutual amusement. Hercules began spending more time in their dorms than in his own. Lafayette and John, relaxing on the couch while Alex worked until he dropped. Alexander, curled up on Laf’s chest like a child, listening to the sweet nothings his partner whispered to him. Hercules, sitting beside them no matter what, blossoming in their closeness. Blossoming in the feeling of being loved.

*

     A year passed before he realized that he was in love with them. What had been happiness turned to hope, hope to longing, longing to despair. He fell back into his second box. The box that told him to hide his feelings, the box that held the thoughts which proved that the three of them, even separated, were worth more than Herc could ever be. If they wanted his friendship they’d have it, and Hercules would make them happy because they deserved it.

   _And_ , said the box, pouring constant, slow thoughts into his mind like a faucet that had been left to drip for decades to long, _they’d never love you like you love them. Like they’d love each other. You’re not good enough. Not enough. Forget it._

     But it was impossible. Eventually, when he was nearing the end of his tunnel after a particularly good few weeks, when Laf and John had let him sit between them and hold their hands while they watched a movie, he plummeted again.

     “Hey, Herc, we were wondering, since you’re basically our closest friend who we aren’t dating…” John had been talking for the pair. Hercules forgot the rest. He’d fallen again.

     He excused himself without answering whatever the question had been and was about to leave before remembering his promise to her.

*

_“Hercules, you’ve got to stop, please”_

_“It’s not like I’m gonna die. I’m not that stupid, love. It’s not a problem. You’re the same.”_

_“Yeah, but it’s addicting. And I know, I know it may not seem that way but what if you do… I can’t live without you.”_

_“So you want me to stop for your own personal gain?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“And not because it’s better for me?”_

_“Obviously. When have I been anything but selfish?”_

_“I promise.”_

*

    The excuse was no longer relevant. He had to do it now, he’d anyway fallen. There was nothing left to lose. He asked Laf to call Alexander, and they did. The three sat on the couch. Hercules leaned over the coffee table.

     “I know…” He paused and took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. Harvesting them from the other box. The good box. He wasn’t there, but maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could pretend. At least a little bit. “I know you guys probably don’t want or need to hear this right now, but I’m… I’ve loved you for… oh god, I’ve loved you since we met.  And I can’t… can’t keep pretending I don’t so if you could just help me out for a bit and respond as quickly as you can that would be great, thank you.”

     Silence.

Hercules closed his eyes.

     Movement.

Hercules looked down.

     His eyes were pried open, and there was Laf, looking at him with a gaze that could not, not in English or French or even Gaelic be properly described, and then their lips were on his. And then his arms were around their waist, and then they were gone, only to be replaced by John, and then Alexander just a moment later.

     But Alex didn’t kiss him. Alex yelled.

     “What the fuck?! You fucking asshole, you’ve loved us this entire time and you didn’t tell us? You were constantly talking about those boys you liked, and we thought you’d never join us-”

     With each word Hercules felt himself be tugged out of the cave that was his despair. Alex was angry. Alexander was angry, but for all the right reasons, and Hercules was laughing.

     Hercules was laughing, and then the other three were laughing too, and pulling him up onto the couch. Limbs tangled together, and more smiles were exchanged.

     “Herc? Remember when you said you weren’t nearly as strong as the original Hercules?” John had asked, unable to keep down his laughter.

     He turned towards him with a nod, albeit a slightly confused one. “Yeah, why?”

     “Well now you’re gonna have three boyfriends to take care of and love, so you’d better have been lying about that because for you to deal with us Herculean strength is definitely gonna be needed.”

     Maybe he was strong enough. He’d clambered out of his own personal hell already, what was the worst that could go wrong?

      “Good thing I’ve been working out then.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you did end up actually reading this please please comment! It means the world to me!  
> hmu on tumblr @iwilldevourthebodies


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